Cold in My Professions, Warm in My Friendships
by thatwritermadeofpotatoes
Summary: Alexander can't live this lie anymore; he's going after the life he might've known if he hadn't married a Schuyler sister. Lams! Two-shot, CHAPTER 2 IS UP:D Rated T for a teensy amount of blood and a kiss.
1. Chapter 1

"…We know each other's sentiments, our views are the same: we have fought side by side to make America free, let us hand in hand struggle to make her happy...

Yrs for ever

A Hamilton"

Hand in hand; I wish that was more literal. I wish we could actually stand hand in hand, and be each other's right-hand man. I wish I could hold him; And not just in my dreamland.

I had begun to regret marrying my wife, Eliza. Though she was kind and warm, she wasn't the same as John. We had known each other for years, fought side by side, and knew the most insignificant things, as well as most significant, about each other. I had thought it was just a crush, something that would pass once I found a suitable woman.

I have never been so wrong in my entire life.

After Eliza and I had met, I had talked to John, in person and through letters. He agreed that it would do me well to have such a respectable woman as my bride. Though I knew, through his words and his face, that he wholeheartedly disagreed.

He had asked me once, if I trusted my heart more than my mind. I had said yes, foolishly thinking that I would stick to that answer. It turns out, you can't always believe your heart over mind. I learned that the hard way, when my mind said it would be unrealistic to be with my dear John. They fought that night, at the Winter Ball. Though my heart cried out, my mind reasoned with me.

 _You won't get far at all, being with some South Carolinian boy who has no merit or wealth. You'd better follow Burr's advice, 'cause he's right._

 _'If you can marry a Schuyler sister, you're rich, son.' Burrs voice remained in my thoughts. Those words held truth, I would garner more wealth than I'd know what to do with. That's what drove me to leave my closest friend, and into the arms of the middle sister._

 _Greed, and lust for money rather than love, drove me into my marriage._

I could tell Eliza was more distant, probably because I kept to myself. Locked in my office, writing letters to John, filled with flirtatious promises.

I tried to converse with Eliza, and when we did, she was sweet and lit up. I'm glad that she was happy to talk with me, but… I wish it made me happy, too. I felt like a monster, for not giving her all the attention that I gave John. I knew she was trying hard to be a good wife, and she was.

It was me, though, who wasn't as invested in our marriage. I swamped myself with work, just so I wouldn't have to plaster on a smile and pretend to be an interested husband. We hadn't yet had children, which I was partly relieved for. I knew Eliza wanted them, since her Angelica had written to her, tears scattered across her letter filled with joy over her newborn child.

I couldn't live like that. I tried to think of what life would be like if we had children, but I just… I didn't want that. Not with Eliza, not with my wife.

I wanted a family, of course… but with John.

So, this time, lust for love drove me to talk with Eliza about my desires. My desire to divorce her, so I could be with who I truly loved.

She was saddened, but agreed that there was no spark anymore. She wrote to her father, telling him of our decision. He wrote back within a matter of days, reluctantly agreeing that neither of us should be in a marriage that we don't care for.

She told me that she'd move back home, she'd be fine and would find another suitor. I wished her the best of luck, as I made plans to travel to South Carolina.

We separated on good terms, agreeing to write each other and keep in touch. I left for South Carolina the day after the divorce was finalized.

I was on my way to rapture with the man of my reveries.

 **A/N: This will most likely be a two-shot, I want to show Laurens and Hamilton getting together. Please leave a review, I love to know what my readers think! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yay, second chapter! Alright, folks, this is the last chapter, as this is a two-shot:) I hope you enjoy it!**

 _1055 Mepkin Abbey Road, Mepkin, Berkeley County, South Carolina._

I reread the slip of paper for the hundredth time, my fingers grazing the dried ink. I hadn't recalled John's home address, so I had asked the revolutionaries that hung around the local bars. It hadn't taken very long to find a man who knew John's father, and get the location of the South Carolinian.

I stood before a moderately sized house, hoping that Laurens was still staying with his father. He had written me a while ago, about a month or so, that soldiers needed his help. He had also told me he would be staying with his father when he could, he just absolutely hated staying in the makeshift camps. I just hope that he is here, and I can speak with him in the flesh. I'd hate to have to write him the full extent of my feelings, to not see his reaction in person. To not kiss him with my lips, rather than my words.

I sucked in a breath, and trudged up the dirt pathway. I inwardly cursed myself for not timing this better; I was honestly showing up to his home before the sun had even shown. Shaking my thoughts away, I raised my hand, as well as my chin, and knocked three times on the solid wood door. A flurry of commotion was heard from indoors, before the door swung open.

"May I help you, young man?" A tall, solid older man stood in front of me, looking me up and down. He looked frazzled, and beads of sweat lined his forehead. "Are you looking for someone, son?"

 _Don't call me son._

"Uh, yes, I'm looking for Mr. John Laurens. Is he here by any chance, sir?" I inquired, my eyes darting behind him into the eerily dark house.

The man immediately stiffened, his eyes fixing on mine. His hands joined, shaking as they wrung themselves.

"My boy, are you…" He shadily glanced behind him for a moment before stepping closer. "Are you Alexander? Alexander Hamilton?"

"Y…yes, sir." I stuttered, wary of his actions. Why was he acting like that? Had John said something terrible about me? "Is John here? I really must speak to him."

"Mr. Hamilton, my son is not in the best shape, he…" The man gulped, raising a hand to brush his hair back. "He has been shot."

 _What? He… he, no, he can't have been shot, he's the best soldier I know. He's too fast, too smart, too… Too bold. I always told him that his cockiness would kick him in the ass someday. God, please let him be okay._

"Is… is he okay? Is he going to survive this?" I breathed, placing a hand on my chest to still my beating heart. "Who did this, sir, do you know? May I see him, please?!"

I hadn't meant to yell that last bit, but my pulse was racing. The man nodded, and gestured for me to come in.

"This way." He told me, before rushing down the corridor. We hurried to the end of the hall and he led me up a staircase.

I could hear John before I could see him. Weak groans carried down the hallway, occasionally stopping, only to be replaced with haggard coughing. The man, who I had figured out was John's father, quickened his pace. We halted at the end of the corridor, and he turned to me with pleading eyes.

"Please, try not to work him up." He cautioned, swallowing heavily. "He's not in the best of shape, I…I don't know that he could handle it."

I fervently nodded, eager to see my closest friend. He studied me for a moment, then swung the wooden door open.

There he was; lying in a small cot in the corner of the room. His face was layered with sweat, as well as streaks of dirt. I staggered across the ill-lit room, while John's father shuffled over to the window. He pulled the drapes aside, letting in the growing light of the morning. That elicited a moan from the figure on the bed, who was now faintly wriggling in his sheets.

"Shh, my boy," His father soothed, moving away from the window and closer to John. "Light will help, as well as this young man."

I sputtered for a moment, as his father winked a wrinkly eye and left the room.

I regained my bearings after a few seconds, taking in a breath and stepping next to the cot.

"John? Can you hear me, dear?" I quietly questioned, kneeling on the bare floor. "I'm here. I'm here for _you_."

He stirred, steadily shaking his hands. He brought them up to his face, which was still obscured by the sheet over him.

"John, I'm going to pull the sheet down a bit, okay?" I whispered, leaning over to grasp the wispy fabric. "Just so I can see your face."

He mumbled something incoherent, as I gently drew the blanket down. I managed to pull it to below his chin, but his face was turned into the pillow, so I couldn't see him.

"John, dear, it's okay, I need to see you." I murmured, frowning at his timidity. "Please, let me see your face. Please."

He let out a frail groan, before slowly raising his head. He reared his head, and we were face to face for the first time in months.

I gasped at the sight before me.

His usual bright eyes were replaced with dark, droopy eyes. You could always see flecks of gold in his vivid brown eyes before, but now, all you could see was muddled, dull brown. There were lines on his forehead and under his eyes. He had a cloth pressed to the left side of his face, blots of blood showing through. His once plump, peach-tinted lips were pale and chapped.

He looked ever so broken.

"Alex?" He croaked, his voice rough against the lingering silence. A sob escaped my parted lips, and I smiled.

"Hello, my dearest, John Laurens." I whimpered, gazing at him with watery eyes. His lips curled into a smile of sorts, thin lines of blood appearing at the cracks. I unfolded my legs, coming up off my knees. I sat down next to his middle, placing a hand on the edge of his face.

"I wish, my dear Laurens, it might be in my power," I breathed, cupping his weary face. "by action rather than words to convince you that I love you."

He choked out a laugh, finding my other hand with his right arm. He glanced into my eyes, before settling on my lips.

"Alexander, come here." He mumbled, his hand wavering on my arm. His pale fingers closed around a clump of my sleeve, and he feebly tried to pull me closer. I obliged, scooting closer to his body, careful not to touch his side.

"What is it, John?" I softly inquired, keeping my hand on his face. His smile faltered for a fleeting moment, and he fully opened his dimmed eyes.

"Alexander, what of your wife?" He shakily voiced, examining my face for an answer. "What of your Schuyler sister?"

"We are divorced, my dear." I confessed, taking his hand in my free one. With a tight grip on his hand, and a gentle cup on his cheek, I leaned closer. Even when he is ill, he has the strength to smirk. He tilted his head up, and I placed a chaste kiss on his dry lips.

"Well," He began, resting his forehead against mine. "Well, I heard you've got a special someone on the side, sir. What of him?"

"He is indeed special." I agreed, a grin spreading across both of our faces. "I believe he will not be on the side anymore, my dearest, John."

 **A/N: As always, I love when you guys review:) Leave a comment to let me know what y'all thought!**


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